


Are you mine tomorrow, or just mine tonight?

by talverrar



Series: 30-love [4]
Category: Until Dawn (Video Game)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Romance, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-24 19:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talverrar/pseuds/talverrar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of filled prompts from my tumblr. Fluffy goodness mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting at the mall AU

**Author's Note:**

> "I’m walking in the mall and you just pulled me aside before some creep could get near me and you don’t know if he was trying to steal my wallet or what but you’re really attractive and I’m kind of flustered now" au

Sam knows it’s a bad idea the second she walks out of the car.

It’s dark outside, and this part of town is completely foreign to her, and she can hear some drunk frat boys laughing loudly somewhere close. It’s okay, she tells herself, she just needs to grab a bottle of cheap wine (or three) and get back to Ashley’s new apartment. She’s strong, she’s fast, and she can defend herself. Also, she’s fearless. Yup. The bravest child-sized adult to ever walk this earth.

She calms herself down somewhere between the dairy and snacks aisles, and forgets the obnoxiously noisy losers completely by the time she reaches the brightly lit alcohol display. She doesn’t kid herself into thinking that she knows what she’s doing, so she just picks the ones with animals on the labels. She gets distracted by an amazingly detailed drawing of an octopus, and doesn’t even notice when someone touches her shoulder blade lightly.

“Ah, there you are, honey! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” a manly voice exclaims.

She feels her hands growing cold with anxiety. She really wanted to avoid this. She turns around, ready to tell him she’s not in the mood for whatever pickup line he’s trying to serve her, but something in his expression stops her. He’s tall, very tall, and pretty damn cute. Sharp jaw, big, tired eyes, full lips - she gets flustered just by looking at them, and she almost misses the slight tilt of his head, gesturing her to look over his shoulder.

Oh.

A guy a few feet from them in a varsity jacket shakes his head in defeat, and staggers away. Must be one of the jocks she passed on the way here. She really shouldn’t have worn this dress, it’s like an invitation for every asshole with an ego.

Or for a helpful stranger.

“Is he gone?” he mouths, and her eyes gravitate towards his lips again. She’s only able to nod. Her mouth is dry.

“Great,” he takes his hand away and uses it to ruffle his curly, black hair. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you, I just can’t stand those guys. They always annoy my sisters.”

Oh _no_. He’s the protective type.

“Um,” she squeaks and clears her throat awkwardly. “Thanks. I really wasn’t up for dealing with those creeps today.”

He laughs, and the sound is so nice that she bets her face is as red as the wine she’s holding. Damn it. Pull yourself together, woman, Ted Bundy was attractive and pleasant, too.

He glances at her breasts.

“So, uh. Are you having a party or a really bad day?”

Correction, at her hands.

“A house-warming party. My bad days are bettered by cardio, not carbs.”

“Nice slogan, but I somehow don’t believe you.”

“Vodka has no c’s.”

He laughs again. She’s so weak for men with dimples.

“It does if you mix it with coke,” he grins and reaches for some fancy-looking wine bottle. It’s her turn to laugh.

Awkward pause.

“So, uh. Thanks again. It was… nice meeting you. See you around?” she says in an attempt at nonchalance. He gazes at her warmly.

“Yeah, sure. Have fun tonight.”

“You too.”

-

She’d love to say that she leaves the mall immediately afterwards and doesn’t think about him ever again. That would make her look more chill and rational than she actually is, but also a liar.

Instead, she pays for the wine and texts Ash, briefly telling her about the most random encounter of her life. And, the romantic fool she is, she gives her her blessing.

She wants to wait for him outside the building, leaning against the wall, hoping that the chilly air of the night would stop her from making an idiot of herself. A bigger idiot than usual, at least.

She sees him bolt past her, looking around frantically. Fuck, is he a shoplifter?

But nobody is running after him, and he just keeps stroking the back of his neck, pacing around in agitation. Her heart rate quickens. Is he...?

She takes a hesitant few steps towards him, heels clicking on the concrete floor of the parking lot. He turns around. The look of relief on his face makes her melt.

“Did you lose something?” she asks jokingly, but her voice is tense. This is beyond awkward.

“Only your phone number.”

“Real smooth,” she grins. “A bit desperate, though.”

He groans, and rubs his temples with long, slim fingers. She gets distracted by her own thoughts.

“Alright, I’m no better myself. I was actually going to ask you to come with me,” she admits raising her hands in surrender. “I warn you, though, I’m not interested in getting myself murdered, so don’t even try it.”

He frowns at her in confusion, and immediately she regrets all of the choices that led her to this moment.

“I mean,” she stammers. “I can just give you my phone number. I know I’m being too forward, I don’t know what I’m doing myself, to be honest-”

He chuckles nervously, and it makes _her_ less nervous, ironically.

“I feel like I’m in an episode of _Friends_ , but I’m not sure which one of us is Chandler.”

She laughs.

“Nicely put, mr. Bing. I’m Sam. I’ve always assumed I’m Monica, though.”

“How convenient,” he grins, and she blushes further. She did _not_ think this through. “Lead the way, Sam. I’m Josh. Josh Washington.”


	2. Perseids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “my friends set me up on a date to go to a meteor shower with someone im not really interested in and you’re about ten feet away and my date is pissed bc I’m staring at you instead of the show” **but as** "accompany me on this double date please!"

“Josh, my man, you just got to do this for me, it’s the bro code.”

“For fuck’s sake, you can’t just pull the bro code out of your ass every time you want to make a move on some girl, Cochise.”

“It’s not some girl, it’s Ash! I will never get a more perfect moment to ask her out in my life. Ever!”

“Well, I guess you won’t. But why do I have to be there to witness it, exactly?”

Chris stares at him grumpily.

“Weren’t you trying to make us get together every time we talked for more than 5 minutes for the past two years?”

“Yes, indoors. I’m not going to climb some fucking hill just so you could take her to the bone zone.”

“You really need to stop using that phrase. It’s not happening.”

“Fuck off, Regina.”

“Dude, please. I just don’t want her to think that it’s already a date.”

Josh shakes his head, with an expression of a man confronted with the most stupid sentence he’s ever heard.

“...Why?”

“It would make her nervous. I want us to have a good time.”

“Oh, yeah, cause a fifth-wheeling guy trying not to stab himself with a flashlight out of boredom is exactly what you need to make a girl feel special.”

“Eat a snickers, I’m begging you. I’ll ask around if someone else wants to go. For your sake. Bro.”

-

In the end his friends are more selfish and sensible than him, cause the only people up for a night of star-gazing are his sister and Sam. But Hannah has an important tennis practice early in the morning the following day, so he has to bribe Sam into not bailing on him with three bags of almond joys. Now he’s not fifth wheeling, now he’s like one of the training wheels of a bike. The bike being his friend’s new potential relationship.

He shares this wonderful metaphor with Chris.

“You mean, it’s a double date?”

He doesn’t talk to him for the rest of the day.

-

It’s not like he doesn’t find Sam attractive, because he does, he’s not blind. Her face is symmetrical and her skin looks smooth and her hair is shiny and whatever. He could say the same thing about Chris (he sometimes does), but that doesn’t mean he wants to put his dick in him. Same thing with her. She’s like his adopted sister. Cool, fun little sister, who doesn’t throw dirty socks in his face for comic relief. She’s his bro. His gal pal. A friend, who’s a girl. His girlfr-

No, yeah. So, a sister whose boobs he can glance at. Best of both worlds. But it’s still a bit fucked up that he keeps staring at her butt all the way uphill. Granted, she’s wearing shorts, so that should serve as a good enough excuse. But he’s seen her in shorts before and it didn’t catch his his eye then. Did she lose weight? Gain weight? Started squatting? The hell was going on?

-

They didn’t take tents - just blankets, snacks and Chris’ mini telescope. Josh brought beer and Sam’s candy, which she generously shares with the rest of them. They eat Ashley’s raspberry muffins, swap funny anecdotes and listen to Sam’s rambling about animals and plants.

Life’s good. He almost doesn’t miss his computer.

-

“I’m glad we’re not at the star party right now, it’s good to chill all by ourselves once in a while. The Park must be packed with people right now,” sighs Sam, stretched on the blanket next to Josh. She smells of apples and beer.

“Plus, they don’t let you bring your own telescope. It’s pretty lame, to be honest, I went last year. I mean, theirs is way better than mine, but it still sucks to share.”

“You’re such an only child, Chrissy,” laughs Ashley, throwing her empty can into the designated trash bag. (Sam brought three different colored ones. Nobody was surprised.) “I’ve heard you can see Saturn’s rings through the ones at the Observatory, though, so I’m a bit jealous,” she adds.

“Nah, I think this bad boy is good enough for that, too. Let me just adjust it a bit,” opposes Chris. The pair fiddles with the telescope in complete focus.

The shooting stars pass by right in front of his eyes, a few every minute. His heart did a little flip when he saw the first one, but at this point it’s more like watching fireworks. Maybe a bit cooler.

“Jeez. This is ridiculously beautiful. I’m never not-looking at the night sky ever again after this,” murmurs Sam. He chuckles.

“I think you’re going to be a bit disappointed. Smog and all. I think this night is special.”

Their gazes meet, and his heart skips a beat. Her eyes are glittering in the dark.

“I think you’re right.”

-

“You can’t really call them shooting stars, you know. It’s a meteor shower, the Perseids to be exact,” babbles Chris, pleased with himself immensely.

“Fun fact, the name means the children of Perseus. Perseus was a son of Zeus, and married a woman he had saved from being sacrificed to a sea dragon. So near his constellation we have the constellation of Andromeda, the wife, Cetus, the monster, and his horse buddy, Pegasus,” joins Ashley.

“Funner fact,” Josh adds, because he’s done his wikipedia digging earlier that day. “Some old civilization believed that they were an ejaculation of their god. What we’re seeing now is basically a divine fertilizer.”

Everyone laughs.

The night is warm, but the air is crisp. Sam shivers slightly and grabs his hoodie from under his head. She looks at him funny when he doesn’t fight her for it.

He likes the way she makes it look. Like she isn’t wearing anything underneath it.

-

“If they argue about whether it’s the fucking Virgo or the fucking Cassiopeia again, I’m going to lose my shit,” she mumbles into his arm. Indeed, Chris and Ash seem to be quite in the middle of a heated argument.

“What do you mean, you don’t find nerding over constellations romantic?”

“Yeah, sure,” she snorts. “Can’t get any hotter than that.”

“Challenge accepted, my dear friend,” he grins, pulling her into a tight embrace with the arm on her side. Her leg lands on his, her head on his shoulder, her hand on his chest. He hears her inhale sharply.

“Why,” he starts, imitating Chris’ voice rather perfectly, pointing at the sky with an outstretched hand. “Here we have the Big Dipper, which carries most of the old god’s cum. Right under it,” he wiggles his finger lazily, “is the Smaller Dipper, analogically storing only a little bit of his cum.”

“You’re disgusting,” Sam laughs, her entire body shaking.

“And here’s the Maiden, who wishes to be covered in-”

“Dis-gus-ting,” she swats his chest with an open hand repeatedly. He chuckles, stroking her back in a calming manner. He relishes in how it makes her muscles relax.

Her fingers start brushing against his torso tentatively, and he wants to purr with pleasure.

He also wants to pull her close, closer and closer until their lips touch, and the thought scares him so much that he must be making a face, because she stops moving at all.

The new feelings simmer in the back of his heart like an ardent flame.

-

He wakes up for no reason, and Sam’s spot next to him is empty. He sees her sitting at the edge of the hill, not gracing the silver and gold city below her feet with a single glance. The meteor shower has ended, but her head is looking up at the slowly pinkying sky above.

He sits next to her, bumping her shoulder with his. She doesn’t acknowledge him with her gaze, but she smiles.

She seems ethereal, transcendent. He never noticed how pretty the line of her profile was, how it made her look like some aristocratic lady from the Golden Era of Hollywood. There’s elegance to her, even in his oversized grey hoodie, which covers her hands completely.

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, like they did countless times before.

“Are you still making wishes?” he asks with a heavy heart.

“I’ve only got one left,” she says cryptically, and leans against him.

A star crosses the dawning sky, and his breath hitches in his chest. There’s no sound but the blood’s whisper in his ears, and he lowers his head. Their foreheads touch, then their noses, and then he covers her lips with his, hungrily, irreversibly, finally.


	3. Voyeur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's short and lame because I'm in the middle of writing four other stories someone send help

Sam enjoys the moments of serene quiet of the early morning hours. Nothing but a stray chirp of a bird, nothing but her and the world covered in purplish hue. The Washington manor lies close to the Hollywood Reservoir, and if she only wanted to, she could put on her trainers and go for a refreshing hour of jogging.

Too bad she’s hangover, which changes her perceivance of the world drastically. Especially the chirping of birds.

Her thoughts feel like covered in molasses - slow, sticky, senseless. She regrets her life choices as she gets up from the couch she’s slept on, stretching and trying to ignore the pain in her neck.

Elementary school Sam would have never painted her future self as someone who’d party hard in high school, but it sort of just happened. Secretly she blamed Josh and his curious ability to make friends with people who could pull off fake IDs. People like Michael Munroe, whom she finds snoring soundly under the table, cradling one of the empty bottles of wine they’ve had last night. It was Emily’s pick, and great as always. She was the only one - aside from Beth and Jess, but that was a team effort - who actually made it to one of the guest bedrooms on their own.

She tries not to step on what looks like a pile of laundry, which she correctly identifies as Chris. The guy has some serious issues with wearing more layers than necessary. She should make him try doing exercises to improve his blood circulation.

When she stops feeling like shit herself, that is.

She hopes a quick shower will accomplish that, so she walks her way upstairs to the main bathroom. Marble tiles, a two-person bathtub on one end and a shower with hydromassage on the other, crystal chandeliers, porcelain sinks with golden taps, spotlessly clean mirrors everywhere - it screams nouveau riche, their entire house does, but it’s also surprisingly cozy. Because of its generous and welcoming residents, she figures, smiling fondly.

Her hair smells of yesterday’s Bordeaux and cigarette smoke as she lets the waves of gold fall loose on her shoulders. She should probably just cut it short; she always ties it into a messy bun anyway. Or, as Josh likes to call it, bird’s nest. Her smiles grows wider as she remembers the previous night they’d spent together on the balcony with Chris. They talked and laughed deep into the night, until Josh had to leave them to take care of Hannah, who had too much to drink. Another attempt at seducing their hot class prez, she suspects with an exasperated sigh.

She needs to think of something to stop her from getting that tattoo, she decides between taking off her top and a bra. Han didn’t specify why she was doing it, but it was definitely out of character for her. Just like drinking to the point of nausea.

She examines her breasts out of habit before sitting at the edge of the bathtub, struggling with her skinny jeans. The problem with skinny jeans is that they look sinfully good on her definitely not skinny body, so taking them off is always quite a workout. A bottle of shampoo falls down the tub with a ridiculously loud clatter. Sam sighs, trying to ignore the echoing pounding in her brain it leaves her with.

She is about to start the water in the shower when the door to the bathroom open.

“Hannah, fuck, I told you to puke in your own bathroom, these tiles are a pain in the a-”

She’s a deer in the headlights, she’s Lot’s wife, she’s Medusa’s victim. 

She’s naked. Josh Washington is seeing her naked. Josh, her sexually attracted to girls friend is seeing her. Naked. At this very moment. And she’s a girl. Who’s naked.

His gaze shifts between the swell of her breasts and the triangle of dark blonde pubic hair; he’s tense like a cat before the jump of its life, lips parted, eyes wide as ever and as never before.

She’s going to die of embarrassment. She’s going to murder him.

Josh’s hand on the handle twitches once before he runs away, closing the door behind him.

Her face turns petunia red, and she slides down to her knees, burying her face in her thighs.

Holy shit.

“I swear it was an accident,” she hears him yell, and she knows, ok, she fucking knows Josh would never humiliate her on purpose, but-

Holy. Shit.

**Author's Note:**

> Make sure to R&R (because I feed on your comments) and hit me up with your prompts on my [tumblr](http://joshing-machine.tumblr.com/ask), pretty please! Thanks for passing by!


End file.
